But La Resistance Lives On
by Foopadoop
Summary: And now we all truly know that Kyle's mom really is a fucking bitch.


**THERE. I POSTED SOMETHING. I'M WRITING AGAIN. HAPPY?  
****This was just something I came up with one night in the hotel. It's just an AU for the movie. I don't think I'll ever finish it, though. **  
**I don't know about the title. Though you die, La Resistance lives on, right? Eh, if you got any better ones, lemme hear em. xP**

"I'm... I-I-I'm doing very important things..."

The woman's green orbs met those of her son's, staring in vex and slight uncertainty at the child standing in front of the two Canadians. The boy, the one we know as Kyle Broflovski, just stared in defiance at his mother, though quivered slightly while doing so.

"But mom, you never took the time to talk to me," he said in a soft tone, though loud enough for his mother to hear. He seemed to grow in confidence. "Whenever I get in trouble, you go off and blame everybody else. But I'm the one to blame. Deal with me. You keep going off and fighting all these causes... But I don't want a fighter."

His own green eyes shone with hope towards the hefty woman, who was starting to back down. Maybe she was getting it. Maybe she was finally listening to him, realizing how stupid this was and they could all go home. He sent her a small, optimistic smile.

"I want my mom."

Sheila stared at her son, stunned at the words he had said and that he had defied her. The other children seemed to be slightly surprised as well, but glad that someone had the fucking balls to say what needed to be said. They formed a tight cluster around Terrance and Phillip, who watched the scene with great interest. Everyone in the immediate vicinity fell quiet, all eyes locked on the sad looking group of La Resistance and the leader of the war. A small sob broke it all.

"Poor little fella!" A soldier sniffed, dropping his gun. A few more followed suite, realizing this war was getting them nowhere and was absolutely fucking pointless. The general lowered his as well and the members of La Resistance began to relax and grin triumphantly at how things were seemingly turning out.

Seemingly. Keep that in mind readers.

I say seemingly, for only a few moments later at this approaching happy ending to this fucked up story, Sheila's eyes flashed and a dark, crazed look crossed her face. The hefty Jersey-born woman growled and dove for the General's gun, jumping back up and snarling.

"No!"

Mrs. Broflovski pulled the trigger, not prepared for the jump the gun gave as she shot wildly at the Canadian comedians. Children dived out of the way, soldiers gasped.

Bang! Bang!

"Terrance!" Phillip shouted in dismay as he stared at his partner's bleeding corpse, barely having time to get out the name before a spray of random bullets caught the blonde in their flight.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The man fell next to his dark haired friend, blood oozing from his chest. A boy in a red poofball hat, the kid called Stan and one of the main protagonists of the ending to this story, pushed himself off the ground and stared aghast at the panting red haired woman.

"Holy shit, dude!" he gasped, and other children did the same. Blood pooled from the corpse of Phillip and soaked the ground, spreading in a strange way as if pulled by a mysterious force. Winds picked up and the skies turned darker. Cartman wandered closer, staring in horror.

"We're in for it now," the fat boy grumbled. Stan shook his head.

"Dammit, what're we gonna do now?! She just caused the releasing of Satan!"

"I know! What a stupid bitch!" Electricity shot out from Eric, but he didn't seem to notice. A large dark shape, presumably Satan, rose from a hell hole that had been created and demons shot out as well.

"Wait, where the hell is Kyle?"

"Stupid Jew must have bolted," Cartman sneered disdainfully. "What a pussy."

"Shut up, Cartman," Stan growled, stumbling around fallen bodies and completely ignoring the chaos that had captivated everyone else's attention. He began to search the scattering crowds for his green hatted friend. "Kyle! Kyle, where the hell are you?!"

Cartman rolled his eyes and lumbered after the poofball hatted boy, doing the same. "Kahl! C'mon you stupid kike! Come back!" He stepped disgustedly over Terrance and Phillip's bodies, looking around through the hellish evil going on. Damn, if the demons were gonna hump each other, at least they could go get a fucking room. "Jeez Kahl, stop bein' a pussy and come out! Kahl- Ooof!"

The fat boy hit the ground hard and he was tripped, too winded to curse or say anything as the breathe was knocked clean out of him. He freaked a little when he felt whatever had tripped him grip his leg.

"Ey! Let go off me, butthole!" he snapped, turning himself over to get a better glance at whatever could possibly be rude enough to trip him, Eric fucking Cartman, while he was looking for the Jew. A bloodstained, green gloved hand tugged shakily at his pants leg and Eric's brown eyes widened.

"Holy shit balls," he managed over the gasping chokes the person clutching his ankle was making. Stan stopped to see what Cartman could possibly be doing rather than looking for his friend. Stan's friend, at least. You could never tell with a fat bastard like Cartman. "Oh my fucking god, STAN!"

"For fuck's sake, Cartman, what is it?" he replied through gritted teeth, turning around to see whatever Cartman's antics were. Instead, he felt his heart leap to his throat as he dashed forward. "KYLE!"

Kyle gasped for air through the blood that leaked through his lungs, green eyes wide and blurring. From underneath the bleeding corpses of Terrance and Phillip, Stan could see his friends body convulse. One hand was grasping with great difficulty to Cartman's pant leg while the other clutched at the ground, clenching at the blades of crimson stained grass as if for dear life. Eric glanced up.

"God... Kyle's mom really /is/ a bitch!" 


End file.
